I'm not intimidated by your words
But by your actions? I'll admit I am.
I could have been as happy as a clam
If I could hear you as I hear the birds
And like them, never see you. But you're here
And I must deal with that, despite myself.
You will not stay up there, high on your shelf,
Where I prefer you, far beyond my care.
So here you are, and I must face my fear
And entertain the thought that you might be
More interesting than my activity
And therefore fearsome, for I must despair
Of being who I wish if you are more;
And seeing you, I know that I am poor.
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